


Reason to Stay

by eadunne2



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bottom!Bucky, Consent, Dirty Talk, Friendship/Love, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Scars, top!steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 01:58:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4416701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eadunne2/pseuds/eadunne2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Natasha says you had nightmares. Talked in your sleep.”</p><p>The blush had to be obvious, but Steve ignored it. “Did she now?” He wondered if she’d disclosed the topics of those particular dreams.</p><p>“I’ve been having nightmares about you,” Bucky admitted. “About killing you and then remembering who you were.”</p><p>“You didn’t though,” Steve said stepping forward. “I’m fine.”</p><p>“You’re not fine.” Bucky’s voice was getting louder. “You’re charging off on suicide missions. You’re trying to leave right now, to go back to getting yourself killed.”</p><p>“Then give me a reason to stay.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reason to Stay

**Author's Note:**

> At the beginning, Steve is super dejected. He's not outright suicidal, but is actively uncaring for his well-being, so if that's a trigger for you, be aware.

Steve had a lot of regrets, but taking this job wasn’t one of them. In fact, as he watched the last of the light disappear beneath hunks of concrete and steel, as the world faded dimly around him, he found that he was grateful. It was over.

\--

Natasha made good on her promise to disappear. Tony helped Steve set up an algorithm on his computer to keep an eye out for missions and incidents that looked like her work. Much to his enjoyment, she stayed very active despite the low profile, taking out not only several remaining Hydra outposts, but also occasionally infiltrating corrupt regimes, either terrorist or government, stealing their secrets, and releasing them online. 

It was exhilarating, especially after Steve had struggled so deeply with purpose and duty, right and wrong, to see someone on his team doing work that was so clearly just. 

Besides, the US didn’t look nearly as foolish having their national secrets disclosed after the same thing happened in Russia and Egypt. 

Occasionally, traces of the Winter Soldier showed up at the same scenes as Natasha. Impossible hand prints in solid material like metal or stone. Snippets of security feed that showed a familiar knife fighting style. 

And Steve researched all of them. 

“Dude, you’re being weird.”

“Hm?” 

Steve glanced up at Sam, who was sprawled on the couch, no longer watching CSI: Miami, staring at him thoughtfully. 

“You’ve been off lately.”

Something twisted in Steve’s stomach, but he shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

Sam sighed. “You’re a million miles away. Ever since the Hydra mission.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Steve chuckled trying desperately to reroute the conversation. “Things are normal. Or at least as normal as they ever are with us. I’m working and training. I’m watching crap TV and drinking cheap beer with you,” he said, gesturing to Sam with the bottle in his hand. 

At that, Sam relented with a grin. “Yeah, but you’re not really watching. You’re reading that file. What’s in it?”

Steve chewed his lip for a moment, deciding on the half-truth he thought he could best pull off.

“Natasha was in Iran. I’m looking over the file, making sure she didn’t leave any lose ends.”

“You know she didn’t.”

Steve shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt to check twice.”

“You miss her?”

Startled, Steve blinked at him then gave a soft smile. “Yeah. I do.”

Seemingly satisfied with the conversation, Sam turned back to his ridiculous TV show with a, “Me too, man. Me too.”

Steve watched him for another moment before diving back into the file. Bucky had been at this one. He was sure of it. Hydra outpost. Still from a security camera showed what had to be Nat, though she was wearing a wig, and a man, Bucky’s height and build. Winter Soldier’s build. 

He got in contact with Natasha.

\--

She cussed him out for tracking her, but that had been expected. What he hadn’t seen coming was her complete silence when he asked about Bucky. All she gave him was, “He’s fine Steve. Leave him alone.”

It had felt like he was being gutted. Bucky was alive, was working with Nat, and wanted nothing to do with him. It figured. He’d finally found his best friend, a ghost from the past back from the dead, and the guy didn’t want to see him.

“Alright,” he said softly into the phone. “Stay safe, Natasha.”

“Steve-” she cut in, voice pleading, but he had already hung up.

As shitty as the experience was, it was a clarifying moment for him. He’d been trying to keep up appearances, keep his head above water while the Avengers were in the press, but as everyone scattered to their own projects and as Nick rebuilt his unit from the ground up, the familiar numbness began creeping back in. 

He took a break from Nick’s missions and instead found his own. Things that were probably too dangerous to go alone, even for him, but he wasn’t about to ask Sam to risk his life, and besides, that wasn’t really what it was about.

He couldn’t fix any of the things that really mattered. His old life was still gone, his country was still corrupt, his best friend might as well still be dead, and Steve…Steve was a body. A weapon. And he would use it or die trying.

It was on one of these missions that his luck finally ran out. And as the darkness finally came for him, it felt like a gift. The hand of forgiveness extended. It was over. He took it.

\--

“Goddamn stubborn bastard,” the voice said. “Always taking stupid damn risks.” 

Steve felt the pinch of a needle giving stitches somewhere on his thigh first, then the rest of the aches set in. His head was pounding, every muscle in his body hurt, and breathing was more trouble that it was worth, honestly.

“Leave it. It’s fine,” he croaked. Irritation consumed him. He’d tapped out. Why was he here?

The twinge of the stitches continued.

“I said-” he finally got his eyes open and his words petered out. “Leave it.”

He stared up into ice blue eyes. “Bucky.” His voice was barely a whisper and he was too tired to do anything about it.

“Steve,” Buck said with a half smile. “You look like shit.”

A lifetime ago, Steve would’ve punched him in the arm and laughed. Now he scrambled backwards, clutching the blanket that covered all but his exposed leg. 

“Hey, easy! Easy,” Bucky said, voice cool as he gave slack to the thread still winding out of Steve’s thigh. “At least let me finish this up.”

It was too much. There was less of the Winter Soldier and more of Bucky in this man than he’d seen since…well, since before there was a Winter Soldier to speak of. He couldn’t tell whether the pain in his chest was medical or psychosomatic and he didn’t really care. It hurt like a bitch. 

Steve held his body still, sipping in little mouthfuls of air to keep his lungs from expanding against his broken ribs, and watched as Bucky’s hands, one flesh and one metal, gently held him still and finished off two more passes of the needle through his skin. 

When Bucky finally cut the thread, Steve flicked the blanket over his leg and leaned heavily on the headboard. 

“Where am I?”

“New York.”

“Why?” The question came out more roughly than he’d intended. 

“I wasn’t gonna leave you to bleed out in the middle of nowhere.”

“You-” Steve struggled for breath and words, “you saved me.”

There was a small smile on Bucky’s face, not quite James Buchanan, but definitely no longer Winter Soldier as he said, “Yep.”

“Shoulda left me there.”

All the air left Bucky in a rush as he grabbed Steve’s shoulder roughly and leaned over him. “Don’t say shit like that. Don’t ever say shit like that.” 

Steve blinked at his friend, too confused to argue. He was really out of it, maybe Buck gave him pain meds or something, but instead of flinching away he leaned in and put a hand on Bucky’s chest, feeling the thud of his heartbeat beneath his palm.

He was reminded of when their positions were switched, when he’d found Bucky strapped to a table in a damp basement, remembered the fear crawling across his skin until Bucky looked up at him and smiled. Said his name. 

“Buck,” he said softly, almost lost in his own mind before he quirked a small grin of his own. “We gotta stop meeting like this.” 

Surprise, then pain, washed across Bucky’s face, but then Winter Soldier calm settled in and Steve flinched, jerking his hand away. 

“Sleep, Steve,” Bucky said as he stood to leave, voice unnervingly even. It hurt worse than any of Steve’s injuries.

“Will you be here when I wake up?” Steve asked. He wasn’t particularly interested in doing so if Bucky was just going to disappear again. 

Bucky turned back, a flicker of surprise on his face before he schooled his expression again. “Yeah. I’ll be here.”

\--

When Steve woke again he felt less like he’d been hit by a bus and more like he’d survived a night of heavy drinking. Other than the wound that Bucky had stitched up, which must’ve been severe judging by how bad it looked even after a day of healing, most of his other wounds were scabbed over and mending. His ribs no longer felt broken, and when he stood to find a bathroom he found he could walk just fine.

He showered and changed into soft sweatpants and a zip-up he’d found at the end of the bed before going to find Bucky.

The early light in the kitchen was soft, but Bucky was already awake. His hair was tied back but a few strands had escaped. He was wearing jeans and an NYU t-shirt, looking for all the world like a normal guy, other than the metallic hand resting on the counter and the blade he was absently flipping and twirling with the other. Steve’s chest ached.

“You’re looking better,” Bucky commented. Steve noticed Buck’s eyes on his chest where the jacket hung open and glanced down. He was still a little bruised. Bucky must’ve been assessing his injuries. 

“Feeling better.” 

He poured himself a mug of coffee and crumpled into a seat at the counter, wincing. A long silence hung in the air.

There were a million questions to be asked, but for the moment Steve just sat in thoughtful wonder. He’d mourned. He’d lost this man more times than he could count, and it was entirely possible he’d lose him again, but Steve wasn’t going to force Bucky to stay. Not after all the choices that had been taken from him. 

It had been so simple once. Two friends. So what if he’d loved James Buchanan Barnes more than air or light or water? They’d been together. After nights when Bucky stayed out dancing with a million nameless girls, he always came back to Steve. Always had that smile for Steve that started out roguish and rough and melted a little. Only for Steve.

A little mournful noise escaped him and he was so lost in thought he didn’t think to catch it until it was out. He looked up to realize Bucky had been watching him. 

“You ok?”

Steve nodded curtly and wondered if he’d ever be able to think about their past without his eyes burning. “What happened? After you dragged me out of the river?”

“You mean after I tried to kill you.” Loathing was crystal clear on Bucky’s features. 

“Buck…”

“I hid out. Natasha found me. It was rough going for a while. The shit they gave me took some time to wear off but Nat talked me through a lot of it. Helped me out. I still have bad days, but I’m feeling more like myself now.”

Steve gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the fact that Bucky had allowed Natasha’s help but not his. 

“Buck, where are we?”

“I told you. New York.”

“Yeah, what is this place?”

Bucky shrugged. “My apartment.”

Steve froze. “Your apartment?” he said incredulously. “You’ve been blowing up bases all over the world and you have a damn apartment in New York?”

Bucky just stared at the counter. 

Steve wanted to argue, wanted to get defensive, but the reality of the matter was that Buck had been close, so freaking close to him all this time, and still didn’t want to see him. Never reached out. 

So he saved Steve’s ass. Again. Steve knew Bucky was a decent guy. He was just…done with Steve. Too much history. Too much baggage. Made sense. He couldn’t blame the guy.

It was nice of Bucky to let him stay the night, Steve thought, but he didn’t want to overstay his welcome. Shaking his head he slid off the stool and took a moment to steady his body. 

For a moment he let himself pretend. What if this was their apartment? It would never be like before, couldn’t be, but he could imagine what it would be like, cooking in the little kitchen. Doing dishes shoulder to shoulder at the double sink. Watching TV in the small living room he’d passed. He’d be able to see Bucky every day. Hear his smart-assed comments. Steve was sure even Hydra brainwashing hadn’t been able to erase that part of his friend. 

“Steve?” When Bucky had moved to stand in front of him, Steve wasn’t sure. All he knew was that suddenly they were close enough that Steve could smell him, shampoo and laundry detergent, but underneath that, just Bucky, the smell that was simply him, and it was the same as it was all those years ago, and Steve only just managed to turn away before a tear escaped down his cheek.

He wasn’t ashamed of crying, there was nothing wrong with a man having feelings, but it was useless in this case. “I should get going. Thanks for the, uh, rescue, though. And it was … good to see you again.”

Good? Heartbreaking, wonderful, painful. But good? Not really.

“Where are you gonna go?” Bucky asked, sounding weirdly distant.

Steve shrugged. “Had another job lined up outside Tehran. Figure I’ll be able to catch a flight back out in a day or two.”

“What the fuck, Rogers.” His voice was angry but even, and Steve turned back so quickly that something twinged in his neck. “What?”

Bucky’s calm shattered the second he got a good look at Steve’s face. Steve had never been much good at hiding his emotions, not like Bucky…Bucky could make anyone believe anything. 

“You trying to get yourself killed?” Bucky demanded. “You gotta take better care of yourself, Steve!” He looked legitimately furious, which was strange. 

“What?” Steve repeated, still confused.

“I’ve been watching your missions. You could’ve been killed a half dozen times over. What’re you thinking?” 

“The fuck do you care?” Steve spat. The exhaustion, the sadness, all of it was catching up to him. “I looked you up, Buck! Even tracked down Natasha to ask her to help me find you. She said to leave you alone.” 

Bucky looked guilty enough that Steve knew he’d been right: Bucky had asked her not to give Steve any information.

“Alone,” Steve said again softly with a tired laugh as he deflated. “I dunno, Buck. How many times was I supposed to lose my best friend? Been looking for you for half my damn life. Everyone else is dead. I’m a goddamn time capsule. A weapon. Replaceable. And you’re done with me.” He shrugged. “S.H.I.E.L.D. is rebuilding. Nat is fine, Sam’s learning fast, Fury’s got more agents than he knows what to do with. What’ve I got to stick around for?” His voice was thick. 

There were plenty of things Steve was expecting Bucky to say, but it was not, “Done with you?” in a shocked and indignant tone. 

“You were pretty clear, Buck. Or Natasha was. It’s ok,” he said gently. “You have the right to choose how you want to spend your life.”

“I tried to kill you!” Bucky blurted out, then softer, again, “I tried to kill you Stevie. I’m not done with you. You should be done with me.”

Hope thudded in Steve’s chest but he held his body still in case he was wrong. “The Winter Soldier tried to kill me. You pulled me out of the Potomac.” 

Miserably Bucky said, “I am the Winter Soldier.”

Steve shrugged. “Now you get to decide who that is. I’m not mad at you, Bucky.”

“You should be.” 

Steve shook his head. “Never. With you ‘til the end of the line, remember?”

Bucky sighed and tried to smile. “You’re a stubborn bastard, you know.”

Steve nodded. “I know.” He sighed. "I missed you so much."

“Me too, Steve," Buck said, a soft look on his face. "Especially once I started to remember.” A chill ran through Steve’s entire body and he crossed his arms in front of his chest to keep from shivering, but Bucky didn’t look sad or scared, just thoughtful. “More and more every day. Some of the torture. But a whole hell of a lot more from before. From when we were just Steve and Bucky. When you were a scrawny punk. I remember following you into battle.”

Steve exhaled sadly. “I got you killed, Buck.”

Bucky shook his head. “War got me almost killed.” He paused. “Natasha says you had nightmares. Talked in your sleep.”

The blush had to be obvious, but Steve ignored it. “Did she now?” He wondered if she’d disclosed the topics of those particular dreams.

“I’ve been having nightmares about you,” Bucky admitted. “About killing you and then remembering you.”

“You didn’t though,” Steve said stepping forward. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.” Bucky’s voice was getting louder. “You’re charging off on suicide missions. You’re trying to leave right now, to go back to getting yourself killed.”

“Then give me a reason to stay.” 

The plea was out of Steve’s mouth before he could take it back, and he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. It always came back to this, back to Bucky. All the good things he ever had started with him. Might as well end with them too.

But his friend was still standing by the counter, still and stiff and disturbingly blank-faced now, and Steve nodded. It was what he’d been expecting. “Take care of yourself, Buck,” he said. It sounded heavier, more final out loud than it had in his head, but that was probably for the best. If he were being honest with himself, it would be final.

Steve was in the hallway back to the bedroom when he heard it, a tiny, “No,” and then he was being slammed into the wall, hard enough that he heard the crunch of drywall behind him. 

“The hell?”

Bucky was staring at him, manic and desperate, and Steve would never know who moved first but then they were kissing. 

Bucky’s hands wrapped tightly around Steve’s biceps, holding him in place against the wall but Steve reached out and pulled his hips forward until they were pressed together. 

It wasn’t until then, until Bucky was warm and solid and alive and in Steve’s arms that they finally relaxed. Bucky made a sobbing sound against Steve’s mouth and Steve pulled back to make sure he was ok. “Bucky?”

“Love you. Loved you. Since always.”

Steve laughed. “How could you not love Captain America?” 

Bucky’s face remained serious. “I’ve loved you since before then.”

Frowning, Steve said, “Buck, I was a scrawny kid.”

Bucky nodded and some hair fell into his eyes. “The dumbest, bravest, goofiest, sweetest kid. I loved you right from the start.”

Goosebumps swept over Steve’s body and he felt his knees buckle a little. “You…you remember that?” 

“I remember a lot of things, Rogers.” He paused, looking hesitant. “I’m a mess, Steve. Some days I wake up and I think I’m back in that basement, strapped down. I almost killed Nat a few times. I can’t…” His voice broke but he breathed and tried again. “I can’t hurt you again Steve. I can’t be that thing again.” 

“Hey,” Steve whispered, cupping Bucky’s face in his hands. “You’re not that thing. You’re James Buchanan Barnes, and I’ve been looking for you since the day I found out you were still alive. I never stopped loving you. Please, Bucky.”

Bucky looked overwhelmed for a minute before surging in to kiss him again. 

This kiss was slower, more thoughtful. Steve got the impression Bucky was trying to memorize him. Fingers traced his jaw and neck, and occasionally Bucky would swipe his tongue across Steve’s lower lip. Steve, for his part, swept his hands up and down Bucky’s body, getting a feel for his new build. 

It was strange. For as many differences as there were, not the least of which was a metal arm, he still felt like Bucky from all those years ago. Sharp hipbones, broad shoulders. Steve found himself curling his arms inwards, clasping Bucky to him, and they both sighed. 

As he deepened the kiss Steve realized he was getting hard. In a display that was so utterly Bucky, his best friend realized the issue and with a roguish grin, rolled his hips against Steve’s. 

“Fuck. Bucky,” he moaned. He shoved back a little too hard, but they were both practically unbreakable and Bucky’s eyes lit up. With a leg between Bucky’s, Steve pinned him to the opposite wall and got to work kissing and biting at Bucky’s neck, sucking marks into the tender skin. He wound his fingers in through Bucky’s hair and tugged hard, harder than he would with anyone else, but Buck just whined and begged, “Steve, Stevie, please, I need…” His voice caught in a whimper and Steve twitched his hips.

“I got you, baby. I got you,” Steve murmured against his throat, and then Bucky was tugging him down the hall back to the bedroom.

Part of Steve worried he was dreaming, that he’d wake up in the desert covered in chunks of cement, that Bucky still wouldn’t talk to him, but then Bucky turned back to pull him into the room, and the softness of his expression was perfect, a look Steve hadn’t seen since before they went off to war. A look he’d forgotten existed.

Steve kicked the door shut behind him and heard a crack but couldn’t be bothered to look because Bucky was pulling the jacket from his shoulders and the sweats from his hips. 

Standing a back a little he surveyed Steve with a low whistle. “Damn Stevie. They did you up real nice.” 

Steve shrugged awkwardly. They both knew what he really looked like. But when he glanced back up at Bucky there was something else on his friends face. Hesitation? Shame? Fear? 

“Buck?”

Bucky shook his head and threw on the smile that might’ve fooled anyone else in the world, but not Steve. “I just…didn’t make out so well. Hope you don’t mind.”

He stared at the ground, but Steve actually growled. 

“What the-?”

Crowding him towards the bed, Steve kissed him again, working open the button on his jeans. “You are beautiful, Buck.”

“Oh my god,” Bucky said, mortified at the word choice but blushing with pleasure.

“No, you shut it. You were beautiful before,” Steve chastised as he slid the denim down Bucky’s thighs then moved to tug off his shirt. “And you are absolutely breathtaking now.”

“Steve, you don’t have to-” Bucky began, but was interrupted again.

“I don’t have to do anything,” he said, sliding to his knees. “But I sure want to.”

Steve knew he was right that Bucky was beautiful, even before he saw him mostly naked, but the reality of it was almost more than he could bear. 

Buck was tall, strong, exquisitely muscled. Scars littered his side, most noticeably where the metal arm met the flesh of his shoulder, and Steve saw Bucky watching him cautiously, nervously. Smiling, Steve leaned in and brushed his lips along a scar on his hip.

Bucky gasped as if burned. “Steve,” he whispered. His whole body was tense, trembling, legs locked. 

“At ease, soldier,” Steve murmured into the crease of Bucky’s hip, running his palms up and down the length of his legs. “I got you.”

Steve continued trailing his lips over Bucky’s stomach, up to his ribs, back down to his hips. He felt it as every muscle began to relax under his mouth and hands and he smiled into Bucky’s skin. When he glanced up again, Bucky’s eyes had gone from nervous to dark and he was biting his lip so hard it looked painful. “This ok?” Steve asked softly.

Bucky nodded confidently but when he spoke his voice was mostly air. “Yeah.”

Smiling, Steve bit at his thigh before moving upward to ghost his lips over Bucky’s cock where it strained against his boxers. “How ‘bout this?”

“Yes. Yes. Oh god, Stevie please.” 

Steve was a patient man, but Bucky begging was something even he couldn’t withstand. He tugged Bucky’s underwear down and away, allowing him to step out of it and recollect his balance before placing a soft, wet kiss to the head of Buck’s cock.

The noise Bucky made was beautiful, deep in his chest, and Steve did it again, taking the head into his mouth a little, swirling his tongue. He saw Bucky’s knees buckle and pushed him over onto the bed before settling in between his thighs and going back at it.

He’d never done this before but he knew what he liked, and he’d had plenty of time to think of all the things he’d do if he ever got to Bucky again, and Steve wasn’t about to waste the opportunity. 

Slowly, he sunk down until Bucky’s cock bumped the back of his throat. Relaxing, Steve kept moving forward until his nose was pressed into Bucky’s stomach.

“Ah! Steve!” Two hands, one flesh, one metal, sunk into his hair and Steve nudged his head into Bucky’s palms, trying to convey the message. Eyes wide, Bucky stared down at him.

“You sure?” 

Steve pulled off long enough to say, “Please,” in the most fucked-out wreck of a voice he’d ever heard come from his own mouth before Bucky’s hands were tight in his hair holding him still and Bucky was fucking up into his face slowly. His stomach and thighs were trembling with the effort of holding back, and Steve growled and chased him down a few times, encouraging him to get rougher. 

Bucky was always a quick study.

Steve slid a hand into his boxers and stroked himself. He was painfully hard, and the combination of Bucky fucking himself with his face and his own hand was too much, and he whimpered. 

“You ok, Stevie?” Bucky gasped, pulling him off. 

“Yeah. Just so…” he twisted his wrist a little and the pleasure streaked down his spine. “You make me crazy, Buck,” he panted.

“Oh god. Please fuck me, Stevie.”

Later, Steve would be embarrassed about the sound he made, but at the time he couldn’t be bothered. What he did was embarrassed about was saying, “Do you have…”

Bucky rolling his eyes actually made Steve feel better. It was such a familiar gesture. 

“Lube? Condoms?”

Steve shrugged once shoulder awkwardly while Bucky dug around in the dresser next to the bed. “Jesus Stevie. You were just going to town on my dick but you can’t say the word ‘lube’?”

“I can say it,” Steve said defensively but Bucky just grinned, wide and beautiful. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky flopped back on the bed, tossing the lube and condom next to him. “Well? Let’s hear it.” Steve frowned at him. “Come on, Captain. Give me a little dirty talk.”

Steve felt like he was lighting up from the inside out with love for this snarky, beautiful, ridiculous man. The man he’d lost all those years before. The man he’d fallen in love with as a boy. 

Sure, the edges were a little rougher. Steve didn’t miss the occasional flash of numbness or fear or memory that crossed Bucky’s face. But it was him. His Bucky. And that was everything he’d ever wanted.

Taking in the sight of the man sprawled out on the bed, Steve summoned his courage and imagination and began speaking slowly.

“A little dirty talk, huh?”

Bucky nodded coyly and Steve slid smoothly onto the bed, grabbing the lube as he went. He paused before opening it and made sure the tone of his voice was serious as he said, “Buck. You gotta tell me if something’s wrong ok? If it hurts, if you want something else, if something triggers you...just, please talk to me, ok?”

“Ok.” 

“Anything I should be aware of or cautious about?” 

Buck’s eyes were bright as he said, “Nah, Stevie. Just don’t pin me down and I’m good.” His voice was soft but sincere, and it was enough to get Steve moving again.

“Good,” he said, lubing up his fingers. “Now where was I? Oh yeah. Dirty talk.”

He could tell he was blushing all the way to his collarbone but Bucky was smiling so he collected himself and continued. 

“Well. I was thinking I’d open you up real slow, Bucky, watch you squirm.” Bucky’s eyes widened. “Maybe I’ll let you come, but probably not. I’m gonna give you at least one good bite, somewhere on your neck were people can see it.” Steve heard the gasp, but couldn’t tell if it was because of his words or his slick fingers that brushed over Bucky’s hole.

“S-steve,” Bucky stuttered. He looked up through dark lashes and Steve smiled as he leaned down to lick a stripe up Bucky’s cock as he slid the tip of his finger in ever so gently. “Where’d you learn to do this?” 

Steve knew he wasn’t imagining the jealousy in Bucky’s eyes, so he smiled extra sweetly before saying, “Practiced on myself once or twice.” Bucky choked out what might have been a laugh before saying, “Jesus Steve.”

“You ok?” Steve murmured.

“More,” he demanded, and Steve moaned against his cock, taking him into his mouth and pressing his finger only a little deeper, turning it. “Yes, yes, more, please Stevie…”

By the time he was up to two fingers Steve was so hard he could barely think and he was so grateful when Bucky said, “Please fuck me. I’m ready Steve, please.”

“Buck, I’m still…I’m bigger than this,” he warned but Bucky shook his head. 

“Don’t care. Want you.”

“Oh god, Bucky. I want you, too.” Pressed up against him, Steve shuddered out the words, “If it’s too much-”

“Goddamnit Rogers, fuck me already.” 

Steve tried to go slow. He really did. But he was barely an inch in when Bucky rolled his hips up and took him all the way in. 

“Oh shit oh god, you feel so fuckin’ good Bucky.”

Trembling, Bucky rolled his hips again and hissed, “Yes.”

Open-mouthed and clenching his cock at the base, Steve watched as Bucky fucked himself up on Steve’s cock with little sinuous rolls of his hips. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen and it took a full minute for him to calm down enough that he thought it was safe to let go and start moving in earnest.

“That’s it, Rogers. Harder.” 

Steve had always been good at following orders. 

Fucking Bucky was like nothing Steve had ever experienced before. It wasn’t that he was all that innocent. Bucky was just…more. Not only was he Steve’s best friend and love of his life, but he was strong, stronger than anyone else. When Steve moved over him, the only care he took was to not rip his stitches, though he honestly probably wouldn’t notice. He could handle Bucky as roughly as he wanted, and for once not worry if he was too big, too powerful, too much. 

In fact, apparently Bucky could take more, because he rolled them so Steve was pressed to the bed and slammed down onto Steve’s cock, skin slapping. Steve was embarrassingly close already. Holding a hand up to Bucky’s lips he commanded, “Spit,” and although Bucky raised an eyebrow, he obeyed. 

Steve rolled his fingers through the saliva then wrapped his palm around Bucky’s cock. Bucky shouted and Steve could tell by the way he was clenching around his dick that he was just as close. 

“That’s it, Buck. Oh fuck, that’s it.” 

Grabbing the back of Bucky’s head, he pulled him down for a kiss. Bucky cried out on his lips after a moment, “Steve I’m so…I’m gonna…” and Steve held him right there against his forehead, feeling his own body tense and tense until every muscle locked and he came harder than he ever had.

When he could finally see again, Bucky was still straddling him, hands propped on Steve’s chest, panting. Eventually, he rolled off to the side but Steve wrapped him in his arms and tugged him against his side. 

For a moment Bucky lay silent and frozen and Steve frowned, taking his metal arm and laying it across his chest, holding it there with a warm hand. 

“Steve,” Bucky said softly. “You don’t have to…to touch that. It’s not…”

Steve wound his fingers around Bucky’s metal ones and Bucky fell silent with the smallest smile. When they woke hours later they showered sleepily together before wandering back to the kitchen, chuckling at the cracked doorframe and dented drywall. As they sat at the counter with reheated mugs of coffee and cold pizza from the fridge, it felt like renewal, like Steve got a reset button on this morning, and he grinned at Bucky, who ducked his head and grinned back before asking, “So what’s the plan, Steve?”

What was the plan? Steve’s plan had always been to find Bucky or die trying. 

“Stevie, that’s a terrible plan.”

He hadn’t realized he’d said it aloud. Trying again he said, “I want you Buck. That’s all. If you’ll have me. I’ll follow you anywhere. We can keep going after Hydra. We can go back to S.H.I.E.L.D. I don’t care. I just…I need you.”

Bucky nodded slowly. “Are you sure? I’m…I’m kind of fucked up.”

Steve reached out and clasped the back of Bucky’s neck in one large palm, claiming. “Me too. I think we’ll be good for each other.”

“We always have been before.”

“Then it’s settled. We’ll do this together.”

“Shit, are we boyfriends now?”

Steve barked a laugh. “If you want.” 

He had a pang of nerves for a moment worrying that maybe Bucky wanted something less permanent, but then he was watching that beautiful smile stretch across Bucky’s face as he said, “Yeah alright Rogers. I’ll be your boyfriend.”

Blushing, Steve kissed him softly. “That…I like the sound of that.”

“Me too,” Bucky whispered shyly. “Promise you won’t sneak off to get yourself killed?”

Steve brushed their noses together as he nodded. “Promise you’ll stop avoiding me?”

“Yeah. I was just tryin’ to keep you safe, you know.”

“I know, babe,” Steve murmured into Bucky’s temple as he kissed him there. 

Steve’s phone buzzed on the counter and he swiped it open. It was a text from a blocked number, so probably Natasha. It read only, “You fuck yet?”

“Did you tell Natasha about us?” Steve said, laughing. 

“I may have texted her last night about you being here,” Bucky muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Steve responded: “Wouldn’t you like to know.” Then to Bucky he said, “Wait. Why?”

“I may or may not have been pining over you for the past few months,” Bucky said to his plate. 

“What?”

He shrugged. “Dragged you out of the Potomac and suddenly you were all I could think about, all I could see. Nat was the only person I’ve talked to about it.”

“She told me to leave you alone!”

“I told her to. And she told me to talk to you.”

Steve rolled his eyes and leaned in for a kiss. Bucky melted against him, slumping into his arms as Steve licked his way into his mouth. When they finally parted Steve said, “Well I’m glad you did. I missed you like crazy.” 

“Mmm. You too,” Bucky whispered. Then he added, “Hey, Cap?”

“Huh?”

“You know you’re sleeping on the wet spot tonight, right?”

The End


End file.
